Don’t you also find it ridiculously frustrating when you’ve just walked into a room, intent on a certain mission, only to find that you’ve completely forgotten what it was. So you stand there and scratch your head and think, ” Well, it’s the kitchen. Maybe I wanted a drink?” But that wasn’t it. So you leave the room to retrace your steps, thinking, “I know it will hit me if I go back, sit in the window seat, and stare out at the ocean again.” But of course it doesn’t help either. So you give up and start doing something else… and it hits you!
Bam! Like a hammer clicking into place on your favorite type of gun, it hits you. Like a lightbulb switching on over Wile E. Coyote’s head, it hits you. You went into the kitchen to grab your reading glasses from the cabinet where you accidentally left them. And you’re so overjoyed that it finally came to you that you miss the true meaning of the thing. Your memory isn’t what it used to be. Not long term, that one’s just fine, but short term is wrecked. Yikes.
And you find yourself asking the seven-year old to remind you what you said last night because you don’t know. And it’s even tougher for you. You used to be the one who knew everything all the time. People asked you to remind them, and you did, because you could, and it was no problem for you to have several things you were remembering for several different people in your head at the same time.
Okay, who are we kidding? I’m obviously talking about me, not you, but it’s just so embarrassing to admit it to myself, much less to admit it to you, people who have known me for a shorter period of time than I’ve known myself. But admitting it is the first step in getting over the shame, or something like that.
I read this book not too long ago about a woman who lost her memory while she slept at night but she could retain memories for the entire day until she went to bed. It made me go “whoa!” because here I was lamenting my misfortune when there are people out there who don’t even know their own names, or recognize their families. I am blessed to have known a time when I could remember everything, and blessed to say that I still recall most things. All of that is okay because I know and remember the important things, the people I love, who I am.
And that’s not too shabby for me. I’ll take it.
Sam
Sam's Online Journal 
Reblogged this on voicelesssoulsdotorg and commented:
I have done that on many occasions, especially if I was angry about something. I find it amusing now. tis is a good one
Thanks for the comment and the reblog! Of course it just happened to me again this afternoon. I’m getting old.
I can usually recover my train of thought and then what I wanted to get out of the cupboard. I think on some level, we judge certain things as not that important and so, allow ourselves to forget them.
Funny how some things we think are the most important our subconscious tells us aren’t important at all.